


The Revolutionary Set

by The_Cerulean_Author



Series: History Is Happening (: [7]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Classical Music, Coffee, Dancing, Drawing, Dresses, Empathy, F/M, Fairies, Flirting, Flowers, Foreign Language, Hair, Historical References, Light-Hearted, Mirrors, Multi, New York City, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Portraits, Rain, Sleep, Sweet, Tailoring, Vampires, Wings, Words, Writing, past homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-02 17:01:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8675476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Cerulean_Author/pseuds/The_Cerulean_Author
Summary: Four occasions where Dahlia and a member of The Revolutionary become just a little bit closer. Takes place in the following weeks after 'Relax, Have A Drink With Me'.





	1. Alexander Hamilton

**Author's Note:**

> Not going to lie, I've had this fic planned for quite a while and I'm so excited to write it!  
> Enjoy! ^u^

It was approximately 7:30 in the morning and, to no one's surprise, Alexander Hamilton was writing. His three boyfriends had all gone to work and Washington had forced him to take the week off since he'd worked himself past the point of exhaustion (again).

The Caribbean Vampire was completely focused on the paper on his desk and pen in his hand (His laptop was great but old habits die hard), until his supernatural senses heard a steady heartbeat and detected a scent that hummed with life-force, energy and magic (and smelled, strangely, like a combination of fresh vanilla and strawberries). Hamilton sat up, turned his head and smiled when he saw the fifth occupant of the house standing in the doorway.

"A little early for you to be awake, isn't it?" Alex kept his tone quiet, considering the early hour.  
"The same could be said for you, Alexander." replied Dahlia Winter.

She entered his office, wearing silk pyjamas, a dressing gown and slippers. Her dark pink wings were on show, folded behind her, and her long, pink and blonde hair was down whereas Alex's was thrown into an untidy bun. In her hands she carried a large mug that Alex recognised as his own, which the faerie set on his desk for him.

"I knew asking for you to get some sleep would be futile, so I made you some coffee instead." she whispered by way of explanation.  
"I slept plenty, but thank you for the concern, Dearest." Alex replied without thinking, then realised what he said and blushed as he picked up the coffee mug.

Dahlia noticed too, but elected not to say anything. Instead, she sat down upon the stool that was next to the desk and tried to ignore the way her heart and wings had fluttered when Alex had called her 'Dearest'.

"How long have you been awake?" she asked after a few moments of silence.  
"I woke up at 5:00, started writing at 5:30." he shrugged like this was no big deal "Laf, John and Herc all came and said goodbye to me before leaving for work about 15 minutes ago."   
"They all came and said goodbye to me, too. I was awake reading." Dahlia smiled fondly.  
"What were you reading? Anything I wrote?" grinned Alex.  
The faerie shook her head, smiling "Not this time. I was reading a book by a French author that Lafayette gave me. About the June rebellion in 1832, of all things."  
Alex chuckled, having the read the book 'Les Miserables' himself "Of course Laf gave you a book where he's mentioned."

The faerie and the vampire fell into laughter for a few moments, enjoying the other's company and the quiet tranquility of early morning.

"What are you currently working on?" Dahlia questioned, looking at the multiple sheets of paper covered with writing as the laughter died down.  
"I'm Alexander Hamilton. You've read my story, what am I famous for writing about?" Alex smiled warmly, meeting Dahlia's blue-grey eyes.  
"Hm..." Dahlia mused before answering "Financial plans?"  
"Close enough. On my desk is an essay about the Puerto Rican debt crisis and possible solutions. It's only a first draft, though." he dismissed.  
"...Could I read it, please?" Dahlia asked shyly.

Alex looked at her with a somewhat surprised expression on his face. It had been a long time since he'd met someone (besides his ever-supportive boyfriends) who was so interested in his work. He was about to gladly let her read through the draft when his phone went off with a twitter notification. Hamilton put down his coffee mug and picked up his phone. What he saw was someone spewing some of the most racist and homophobic bullshit he'd ever witnessed since John Adams became President. His inner social justice fighter immediately went beserk.

"Son of A BITCH!" he snarled, startling Dahlia. He unlocked his phone, opened twitter and began verbally tearing the offensive peice of shit apart.

After a few minutes of watching Alexander get more and more worked up, muttering darkly under his breath, Dahlia got to her feet and went behind the vampire's chair, placing a hand on his shoulder. The vampire immediately froze at the contact, as the faerie had suspected he would. It was exactly like when her father used to argue with difficult members of his council. Dahlia told Alexander exactly what she had told her father.

"No one can anger you without your consent." she whispered "They are not worth your wrath. Save your energy and efforts for making the world a better place instead of creating more bitterness."  
Alex exhaled forcefully, casting his phone aside and pressing a hand to his temple while placing his other hand over Dahlia's "...How did you do that, Dearest?" he mumbled.  
The faerie smiled at the nickname again "You share many admirable qualities with my father. You are passionate in your beliefs, you will always fight for what is right, though your temper often causes you to lose perspective. He always told me I had a gift beyond my basic telepathy. I knew how to calm him, so it stands to reason I know how to calm you." she spoke gently.  
"...Remarkable..." muttered Alex, rubbing his temple "Christ I have a headache..."  
"Maybe if you didn't tie your hair up so tightly, that problem would solve itself. Besides," she paused so as to free Alex's hair from the hair tie "John says you look better with your hair down." she came back in Alex's field of vision, placing a hand on his cheek "And I quite agree."

Alex nuzzled slightly into the faerie's touch, his eyes slipping closed. When he opened his eyes again, he met Dahlia's eyes again and she was transfixed by just how mesmerising Alexander's eyes were. It felt like they were looking right past her exterior and gazing instead upon her soul. Eliza and Angelica had both warned her about the power of Alex's eyes and she was beginning to see exactly what they meant.

"Would you still like to read my draft?" he murmured, taking her hand and kissing it before she drew it away.  
"Very much." Dahlia nodded, her chest feeling slightly tight.

She took her seat upon the stool and began to read through Alex's essay. It was similar in style and tone to the many documents that she had read in history books, but there was something special about reading a document by one of the most eloquent writers she'd ever known. No one else had seen the document that she was reading, and she greatly thrilled in partaking in history in action.

"What do you think?" asked Alex, sitting on the edge of his seat and eager for her opinion and feedback.  
"Amazing. I hate to make the comparison again, but it's like reading a peice my father wrote." She looked up at him.  
"I take the comparison as a compliment, don't worry." assured Alex.  
"Good. Although if I were you, I'd perhaps alter paragraphs 29-30 to be phrased a little differently. If I might make a suggestion?" she advised.  
"By all means." Alex gestured for her to continue.

"Alright." the faerie looked back at the paper in her hand "If my father were writing this, he may phrase it a little like this;  
Puerto Rico’s Government Development Bank, one of the island’s biggest debtors, has been negotiating with some of its bondholders to pay them at less than 100 cents on the dollar.  
Fights brewing among various types of bond investors could greatly complicate things if Congress does not act in time. Some of Puerto Rico’s bonds have guarantees or constitutional priority, and those investors are pushing for full payment. Other investors are pushing for early settlements, hoping they can recover more in private negotiations than a court-ordered one.  
The rescue plan’s restructuring provisions would also apply to Guam, American Samoa, the Northern Mariana Islands and the U.S. Virgin Islands, if necessary in the future-"

Dahlia glanced back at the vampire, then did a double take and frowned when she saw he was looking at her with a mixture of awe and bewilderment. She was about to ask what was wrong, when he spoke up.

"What language was that?" he breathed.  
"Wasn't it English...?" Dahlia trailed off.  
Alex shook his head "Everything up to 'he may phrase it a little like this' was English, but after that I was lost."   
The faerie wondered what could possibly have happened for a moment, before her eyes widened in realisation " My God, I reverted back to the Fae Tongue, Elvándra-Alyllyran, I'm so sorry, no wonder you didn't understand me."  
The vampire chuckled quietly, taking one of the faerie's hands and linking their fingers together "Don't you dare apologise. I've never heard anyone speak so beautifully...even if I didn't have a clue what they saying." he added, making Dahlia laugh.  
"...You think it's beautiful? Every faerie speaks this language, but the variations come the accents and different emphasis and pronunciations. This language is nothing special among my people." shurgged Dahlia.  
"Well, to me, the soft syllables flowed like silk and the words put themselves togehter like water babbling from a brook- shit, am I really waxing lyrical about this?" Alex asked incredulously.  
"Indeed you are." beamed Dahlia "And that, to me, is beautiful."   
"You're too kind, Dahlia." Alex murmured, the colour slightly high on his cheeks "Now, where were we?"

The pair of them worked on Alex's draft for another hour, the vampire asking the faerie to translate passages into Elvándra-Alyllyran every so often, before the faerie decided to go and shower before getting dressed. Alex thanked her for her help, voicing one last question before Dahlia left.

"Wait wait wait, so, when you showed us that memory where...you know,...was everyone in the room speaking English? Or were they speaking El- Elv-" Hamilton struggled to say the name of the language.  
"Elvándra-Alyllyran?" Dahlia supplied for him "Yes, they were. But it was shown to you in English because it's a language you understood. If, for example, I had only shown the memory to Lafayette only, it very possibly could have translated into French."  
"That's unbelievable..." mumbled Alex.  
"So is living with a house full of handsome, 200 year old vampires who are the Sons of Liberty." the faerie reminded him "Now, if you'll excuse me." she headed for the doorway of the office.  
"You think me, Lafayette, John and Herc are...are handsome?" Alex called after her, turning around in his chair to face her.  
Dahlia stopped and looked back over her shoulder at Alex "Very, dear Alexander." she nodded.

She deliberately replied in Elvándra-Alyllyran, so Hamilton didn't actually know what her reply had been. Hearing Dahlia speak in the Fae Tongue, though, was something that Alexander doubted he would tire of anytime soon.

Great. More fuel to stoke the spark that was quickly becoming a flame of a crush on Dahlia.  
Shit.


	2. Hercules Mulligan

Spying on the British during the revolution had been risky but thrilling, but there was something about tailoring; the feel of the fabric, the quiet of the workshop, the theraputic push and pull of the needle and thread, that Hercules Mulligan just couldn't give up.

Which was why he was currently kneeling on the floor of his own Tailor's workshop in New York, putting the final stitches into a skirt hem on a dress. He almost forgot the dress was on an actual person and not a mannequin because his model was standing still as a statue, with her eyes closed because Hercules didn't want Dahlia to see the dress she was wearing until it was completely finished.

"I give you this, doll. You're a lot better at staying still than some of my other models are." Herc mused as he straighted up.  
Dahlia smiled slightly "Were you under the impression that this is my first dress fitting?"  
"Not at all, Your Highness." Herc replied playfully. Dahlia made to swat at him but missed completely due to her lack of sight.  
"Am I alright to move now?" asked the faerie, moving her hands from where they had been resting on her hips during the fitting.  
"Yeah, if you just step off the pedestal and I'll take you to a mirror." he took a step back so the faerie could step down from the raised block she was stood on.

The faerie took a careful step forward, her shoe catching on her skirt so she slipped. Thanks to Hercules' vampiric reflexes, he moved quickly enough to catch her before she could so much as cry out in surprise.

"Maybe you should have opened your eyes, doll." Herc chuckled quietly.  
"You told me not to until you said so," Dahlia reminded him "therefore I didn't. Besides, I knew you would catch me if I fell."  
"You did?" Herc raised an eyebrow.  
"Given that I trust you implicitly, of course." she smiled.

Hercules was caught off guard by Dahlia's comment and was secretly glad that the faerie's eyes were still closed so that she couldn't him blushing. Nevertheless, he set her down properly on her feet (an easy task, given she weighed less than Alexander, the lightest of his boyfriends, for crying out loud) and gently took her by the hands to guide her over to the full-length mirror in the corner of the room.

"Open your eyes on the count three, alright?" the faerie could hear the excitement in the vampire's voice.  
"On your mark." the faerie nodded.  
Hercules counted "One...two...three."

As instructed, after three Dahlia opened her eyes and gasped, pressing one hand to her mouth and the other over her heart. The gown she wore was stunning; an A-line creation in grey silk, black lace covering the one-shouldered bodice and on the skirt were black satin roses and individual rose petals cascading down on a layer of grey lace hemmed with black lace.

"Do you like it?" Hercules interrupted her thoughts. Glancing at him, the faerie could see that he was anxiously awaitng her feedback.  
"Hercules it's....it's absolutely gorgeous." Dahlia promised, smiling when he visibly relaxed "Just...could I try something?"  
"Sure, doll. Does something need adjusting?" the tailor asked.  
"No no, not at all." assured the faerie.

Dahlia slipped the ring off the chain she always wore around her neck, slipping it onto her left ring finger so her wings were visible. Then she took her glasses off and placed them on a nearby table (she didn't actually require them in her true form) before looking at her reflection.

For the first time since her parents' deaths, she saw Princess Dahlia looking back at her.

It was a strange sensation, though. Like looking at the past. 

"You are a phenomenal tailor, Hercules." she said softly as the vampire placed a hand on her shoulder and she placed her hand over it, using it to ground her as she found herself feeling a little emotional.  
"Not the first time I've been told that, doll." Herc smiled, sensing that it might not be best to tell the princess where he had gotten his inspiration for the dress (the one Dahlia had been wearing the day her parents died) "Who do you think made John, Alex and Laf's clothes during the 18th century?"  
"So you're responsible for that infamous green coat that Alexander adored during his time as treasury secretary?" Dahlia turned her head so that she was looking at Hercules instead of his reflection.  
"Pretty much. There's also a magenta coat, that I'm pretty damn sure a certain Virginian still possesses, that was one of my more memorable creations." admitted the vampire, grinning.  
"Tailoring for both parties of one of the most heated rivalries I've ever witnessed? A dangerous game, Hercules." Dahlia reprimanded playfully.  
Herc shrugged "Maybe, but I've been up against worse, aka British bayonets." he muttered dryly.  
"Was...was it British bayonets that lead to you becoming a vampire?" the princess asked shyly, worried she was asking a sensitive question.  
The vampire squeezed her shoulder affectionately "Yes, it was. But then it was the brilliant guy that is George Washington that saved my life. Now, do you need me to unzip the back of this dress for you or can you manage?"  
"Some help would be appreciated." nodded Dahlia "I wouldn't want to ruin this beautiful dress." 

Hercules smiled to himself and unzipped the zip that ran down the back of the dress' bodice. During the unfastening, the tailor's fingers brushed ever so slightly against the skin between the princess' wings. The female involuntarily let out a bubbling purr and clapped her hands over her mouth as she flushed a shade of pink reminiscent of her wings.

"Adorable as always, baby doll." murmured Hercules, moving to brush a kiss against her cheek.  
Dahlia blushed, if possible, darker (mostly because of the nickname upgrade) before mumbling "Y-You forget yourself, Hercules..."  
The tailor wrapped his arms around her waist and the faerie relaxed into the touch "Considering the breathtaking woman who's recieving all my affections is wearing one of my creations, I think I have an excuse." he mused.  
"...You need no excuse, Hercules." Dahlia whispered, turning her head again to kiss Hercules' cheek.

The tailor gained a crimson blush of his own as he pulled away from the faerie, going over to where she had left her glasses and retrieving them for her. In the mean time, Dahlia removed her ring and her wings disappeared once more. 

"If you go and get changed, I'll be in my design room. I've got a couple of ideas I'd like to look over with you." Herc said as he handed Dahlia her glasses.  
"Very well, I'll be as quick as I can, then." Dahlia smiled as she put her glasses on and made her way over to the changing rooms.  
"In a bit, baby doll." Herc called after her, secretly delighting in seeing her fading blush come back in full force.

Alone in his fitting room again, Hercules moved around the room and collected up any stray equipment that need to be put away. Out of the corner his eye, he could've sworn he caught flashes of colour; firstly blood red, then cerulean blue. Every time he tried to get a better look at the source of the colours, they disappeared as suddenly as they had appeared.

Then, as he was cleaning the floor-length mirror that he and Dahlia had been stood at before, he saw it. Over his shoulder, reflected from the centre mirror of a three-panelled mirror screen that was folded up and propped against the wall, were the images of a man and woman who the tailor had only seen once but who had remained in his memory vividly. 

It was King Saradoc and Queen Camelia. Dahlia's parents. And they were looking right at him and...smiling?

Despite the fact he was a 200 year old vampire, Hercules Mulligan was still spooked- or at the very least, shocked- by this turn of events. He cried out in surprise, whipping around to look directly at the mirror screen. 

Saradoc and Camelia had vanished without a trace, leaving a very confused Hercules apparently still alone.

What the hell?

"Hercules? What's wrong?" Dahlia (in her own clothes again) asked concernedly, having come running from changing rooms after hearing Herc shout.  
"I- What- Nothing, baby doll, I just nearly had a mishap with this mirror." dismissed Hercules.

A shitty move on Hercules' part to lie to Dahlia? Maybe. But consider this: 1) he wasn't actually too sure what exactly he'd just seen, 2) it seemed unfair to mention possibly seeing Dahlia's (unfortunately, most definately) deceased parents just as her life was taking a turn for the better and she was becoming happier again and 3) he'd pulled several all-nighters to get Dahlia's dress finished to perfection, so it was very possible that he was suffering from sleep-deprived delusions and it was an even shittier move to upset Dahlia over that than it was to 'lie' to her.

"Are you sure you're alright? You look like you've just seen a ghost." frowned Dahlia, coming over to him and placing her hands on his shoulders.  
"Heh...I promise, baby doll, I'm fine. Just tired. Come on, let's look over those designs and then we'll go home so I can sleep for about a week." Herc took her by the hands and took her through to his design room, relieved at how easily she had let the subject drop.

He'd done the best thing for her happiness by not telling her...  
Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't actually intend this chapter to end the way it did, but then the idea came to me and I just went with it. Please don't judge.  
> 2 down, 2 to go! ^u^


	3. John Laurens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello people! It's been a while since I wrote for this series but now it's December and I'm back to finish this work and continue this series! Let's do it! ^u^

John Laurens hated the quiet. For him, silence was so much more oppressive than noise was. Was this really surprising, considering Alexander was almost never quiet? And even when he wasn't around, there was also the presence of Lafayette or Hercules to keep the quiet at bay.

Unfortunately, they all had other engagements this morning. Leaving John and Dahlia home alone.

Dahlia! Of course. How could John have been so dumb? The Southerner put down his paint brush and went downstairs to find the faerie. When he found her, she was in the living room, curled up on the sofa and fast asleep. She was lying on her right side, with her wings on show. They fluttered lazily with every even inhale and exhale of breath.

Holy shit. Dahlia was so damn adorable and smoulderingly gorgeous all at the same time. How. The. Fuck?

John didn't care how, given that moments after setting eyes upon the sleeping beauty on the sofa, he had turned around and ran back upstairs to retrieve his sketch book and a pencil. The vampire returned and found that Dahlia hadn't woken. Good. He took a seat in the armchair beside the sofa and opened his sketch book. For once, he did not pause every few pages or so to remind himself of pictures of Alexander, Hercules, Lafayette or combinations of the three that he had drawn. This was not his first sketch book of his boyfriends' pictures, by any means.

It was his first time of drawing Dahlia, though. He wanted it to be perfect.

The vampire began to make light pencil lines across the page, glancing back up at the princess every few seconds and rubbing out any lines that were drastically out of place with the end of his pencil. Once the basic outline was done, John darkened certain lines to give himself a more definitive sketch to build on. (Every few moments, he had to huff frustatedly at a stray piece of hair that was insisting on being a pest.) Small details came next; eyelashes, the intricacies of her facial expression, the fine lines of her wings etc. With the flat image complete, John then lost himself in adding defintion with shading, trying to flawlessly capture Dahlia's cheekbones and the way the natural light reflected off her wings.

Gentle fingers brushing the annoying hair strand off his face caused him to gasp sharply and jerk away, a jagged pencil line forming across his work. He hadn't looked up for a good few minutes while shading, so it was no wonder that Dahlia had startled him.

"Shit!" he growled, scrubbing the dark line he had made with the rubber on the end of his pencil. He was trying to eliminate the mistake, yet not lose any of his drawing at the same time.  
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." apologised Dahlia, having recoiled slightly after making John jump.

Laurens paused and looked up, feeling his annoyance evaporate when his eyes met Dahlia's. He sighed, put the sketchbook and pencil to one side and shifted to make space in the armchair for Dahlia.

"You don't have to apologise, Princess, I didn't realise I'd woken you up." he smiled slightly, putting an arm around the faerie as she settled next to him in the armchair.  
"Heh...I never really sleep, I doze at most." mused Dahlia, turning her attention to the sketchbook on the table beside her "What were you drawing?" she asked as she picked up the book.  
"Nope! Not important! Don't look at that!" protested John, his cheeks and the tips of his ears turned scarlet and he hastily took the sketchbook out of Dahlia's hands, placing it out of reach.

The faerie regarded the vampire with an expression of intrigued amusement but didn't press the point. Instead, she snuggled up to him, resting her head on his shoulder. John had absolutely no problem with this...which worried him slightly and did nothing to answer any part of the internal conflict he'd been dealing with for a while.

"John?" Dahlia's whisper distracted John from his crowded thoughts "Could I ask you something, please?"  
John was somewhat taken aback by this "Of course you can. What is it?"   
"Have there ever been times when you regretted leaving home?" she looked up at him as she asked this.  
"What's brought this on, princess? Feeling a little homesick?" frowned John.  
Dahlia shrugged in response "You don't have to answer the question." she dismissed.

"No no, it's fine, I'll answer it. Let's see..." John mused "As you know from when we first met, I told you I left home after I had a huge fight with my father. After that happened, I joined up to fight in the war and, as you know, that's where I met Alex, Herc and Laf. Our relationship also devloped during that time, but there wasn't a name for polyamory back in the 18th century. Hell, some people still consider the term bullshit today." he chuckled "Anyway, being gay was highly illegal during the 18th century and while there were many people who didn't see the problem, there were those who took is as a personal fucking offense." John growled.  
"I also recall your father being one of those people." interjected Dahlia, patiently awaiting John's point in this answer "A- please forgive my vile language- 'homophobic motherfucker' according your words?" 

John looked at her in surprise, though he could not determine whether he was more shocked at hearing Dahlia swear for the first time in his own memory or the fact that Dahlia had remembered what John had said when they had first met- over a month and a half ago. The faerie princess simply smiled brightly, encouraging the vampire to continue.

"Um, yes." John faltered "As you said, my father was one of those people. But he didn't know that I was gay. I was his oldest child, his firstborn son...but I was never really the son he wanted me to be. I was an artist instead of a politician, a man who cared about his younger siblings more than making a name for himself. He almost never approved of anything I did and tensions between us grew and grew until they snapped. So in answer to your question, Dahlia, there are times when I missed my siblings and my mother, who died of illness, but...I do not regret leaving home. When I left, I was allowed to finally be who I really am, even if it was only around three other men under the cover of night's darkness. I no longer yearned for Henry Laurens' approval." he concluded.

"I...see..." Dahlia mumbled, allowing John's answer to sink in.  
"Now, allow me to ask a question of my own." requested John.  
"That's only fair, please go on." conceded Dahlia.  
"It's the same question I asked you before; what's brought this on? Why did you ask me this?" his tone wasn't impatient or exasperated in anyway, just a mix of kind curiosity.

Dahlia was hesitant to tell him, not wanting to cause a fuss by unloading her minor emotional burdens onto other people...but she trusted John. Besides, it would be unfair for John to answer her questions, talk about his less than easy past, then refuse to return the favour. Very well.

"...Lately, I've been questioning myself on my actions of the past. Every conclusion I've made is that I took the coward's way out and ran away from my duties and my problems." she whispered.  
John fumbled for a moment than realised "Oh! You're talking about why /you/ left home? Wait, you have regrets about doing that?"   
"You've seen the memory, John. I fled from my home and abandoned my kingdom and my people. Of course I regret doing that." replied Dahlia.  
"But- Dahlia, your home was taken over by a cult who wanted killed your parents. They almost killed you! Believe me when I say that saving your own life by fleeing a place where everyone wanted you dead- or worse, they wanted your body to play host to some bitch queen goddess of an asshole religion- is /not/ the coward's way out." John seemed to grow more agitated with every sentence. But it did not seem his anger was directed at Dahlia.  
"You really think so?" mumbled Dahlia.

John cupped Dahlia's face with both hands (suprising both himself and Dahlia with the intimacy of this gesture) "Princess Dahlia Winter. It was your people who abandoned you and your family, not the other way around. I swear to you, if I ever meet that priest bastard who's responsible, I'm going to make him pay for what he did. Alex, Laf and Herc would probably agree with me on that. But before we beat the shit out of him, do you know what we'd do?" murmured John.  
"What?" breathed Dahlia.  
John smiled warmly "We'd thank him. Thank him for giving us the blessing that is you. Because we're incredibly thankful that we met you, Dahlia. I hope you know that you may have lost your parents, but there are still people who care for you, very deeply at that. You are not alone."  
Dahlia managed her own shy smile "You are right, John Laurens. If I had never come to New York, I would never have met you, Alexander, Hercules and Lafayette. I'd never have met the Schuylers, the Washingtons or any of the others either...and I believe my life would be far worse off were that the case. I am grateful for having all of you to enrich my life." 

"Even Jefferson?" John grinned as he raised an eyebrow.  
Dahlia laughed brightly "Yes, even Thomas Jefferson." 

Feeling like the mood needed lightening after that rather emotional talk, John was happy to show Dahlia the contents of his sketchbook while the pair of them snuggled together. Despite talking about one of the things he was most passionate about, John still found himself distracted by Dahlia's presence, which in turn caused conflicting thoughts to once more surface in the back of his mind.

The primary one being his realisation of the overwhelming affection he felt towards Dahlia. It was the same level of affection he felt towards Alexander, Hercules and Lafayette (even if their relationship wasn't exclusive).

But-  
He was gay.  
He'd been gay for the past 200 hundred years.  
It wasn't possible for him to become attracted to a girl now.

 

...Right?


	4. Marquis de Lafayette

Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, the Marquis de Lafayette, considered himself to be a very lucky man for several reasons. He was fortunate enough to have the love of three boyfriends and many wonderful friends. As well as the gift of immortality that his vampirism brought him.

However, today Lafayette had the pleasure of showing a beautful woman, of whom he had grown rather fond, around the greatest city in the world: New York.

Him and Dahlia walked arm in arm through central park, Lafayette talking animatedly while Dahlia listened attentively, reacting when she saw fit. As they were walking, someone poised at the side of the path addressed them. A woman selling flowers on the side of the path offered one to Lafayette. She had olive skin, short teal hair, gold eyes and was dressed in a rather eccentric combination of tie-dye fabrics, navy blue leather and denim.

The Frenchman gladly took the flower (a dahlia, of all things) from the woman, expressing his usual flamboyant gratitude before giving the flower to his female companion; a dahlia for Dahlia, so to speak. The petals of the bloom were the same hue of pink as in Dahlia's hair, yet upon recieving it, a red blush blossomed across the bridge of her nose. Lafayette gave her a warm, affectionate smile before thanking the woman selling flowers, as well as paying for the flower.

"It's so touching to see a happy couple and to be able to bring happiness to that couple with flowers." smiled the teal-haired woman.  
"Oh, we're not-" began Dahlia, quickly becoming flustered.  
"Indeed, mademoiselle, you are right." interrupted Laf "To be able to bring joy to people wiz ze simplest of gestures is truly admirable, equally as amazing as any gifts zat me or Dahlia possess." he nodded approvingly.  
"Well, I've don't want to keep you any longer. Have a pleasant day." she beamed.

Dahlia could swear the other woman's lingered on her for a few moments more than was perhaps normal, but perhaps she imagined it.

She didn't have to question it, though, as she felt a single drop of water fall on her head. Apparently, Laf felt it too as he looked up at the sky, where dark clouds were forming. One raindrop became a light shower which became a heavy downpour within seconds.

"Merde!" swore the Marquis "Come on, ma fée!" he grabbed Dahlia's hand.

Laughing and yelling, the pair of them ran for cover beneath a nearby bandstand. The faerie tripped on the top step but the vampire caught her easily, Dahlia laughing and clinging to Lafayette's coat to keep herself upright.

"Mon Dieu." murmured Laf "Mon chou, 'as anyone ever told you...'ow very beautiful you are when you smile?"  
Dahlia's laughter was replaced by a dark crimson colour on her cheeks "No one who mattered, except my parents. Well, until today." then she smiled the smile that was melting Laf's heart in the first place.

The Frenchman chuckled, touching his forehead against hers before getting an idea.

"You know," he mused, taking Dahlia by the hands and leading her into the middle of the bandstand "zis situation reminds me of a scene from one of my favourite romance films. Ze gorgeous female" he looked at her meaningfully "and ze 'andsome male," he gestured to himself and Dahlia giggled "ze smitten duo all alone, ze rain pouring all around zem, but zey care not for zey 'ave ze company of one anozer. Ze male bows, kisses ze female's 'and and asks 'er to dance."  
"I have a feeling I know where this is going." smiled Dahlia, raising an eyebrow.

Lafayette grinned and then bowed, kissing one of Dahlia's hands.

"May I 'ave ze 'onour of zis dance?" he asked sincerely, looking up at her.  
"I would love to, monsieur, but to what music?" replied Dahlia.

In answer to this, Lafayette straightened up and produced his phone and a pair of earphones to his coat pocket. Inserting the headphones into his phone, the Marquis gave one of the buds to the faerie and put the other in his own ear. For a few moments, Laf scrolled thoughtfully through his music playlists before smiling to himself and selecting one. 

As classical music, perfect for a waltz, began to play, Lafayette took hold of one of Dahlia's hands and placed his other hand on her waist. Dahlia placed her free hand on the Frenchman's shoulder before he led her in a dance. Two steps forward, one step back, turn, repeat...

With only the presence of one another, the music and the rain all around them, it truly was like a scene out of a romance film.

And, in truth, neither Dahlia nor Lafayette would have it any other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BONUS!!!!!:
> 
> As you all know, the flower that made an appearance in this chapter was a dahlia. Now, I didn't use this flower because it's Dahlia's namesake. The dahlia flower symbolises the following:  
> -Staying graceful under pressure, especially in challenging situations  
> -Drawing upon inner strength to succeed  
> -Traveling and making a major life change in a positive way  
> -Standing out from the crowd and following your own unique path  
> -Staying kind despite being tested by certain life events  
> -Finding a balance between adventure and relaxation  
> -Commitment to another person or a certain ideal  
> -Warning someone about a potential betrayal.
> 
> Remind you of any qualities of a certain someone or certain parts of a particular little lady's backstory? The best part is, I didn't even discover this until writing this fic!
> 
> Finally, hmmmm, I put in a fairly detailed description of the woman who sold flowers. I wonder why? What relevance could she play later on in this series? Read on and find out!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! ^u^ xxxx


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